


Arms Tonite

by neomints



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Death, Other, Poetic, Supernatural Elements, kinda. Its hard to explain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:40:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27847006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neomints/pseuds/neomints
Summary: Death, as Sakusa finds out, is nothing like the land of the living makes it out to be.———Sakusa Kiyoomi is dead. This is a recount of that experience.
Relationships: Sakusa Kiyoomi/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Arms Tonite

**Author's Note:**

> Mother mother invented romance. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Death.

When read about it is the end. Cold, bleak, wistful. It is the final curtain call, the last laugh, the roll of the credits. Unknowable. Unavoidable. Unescapable. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi has not spent much time thinking of the bone-cold clutches of death. In fact, he’s barely ever thought of it bar the passing of his old pet bird, and the knowledge that his grandparents were already floating off unknowable shores, long resting. 

Death, as Sakusa finds out, is nothing like the land of the living makes it out to be.

There is no pearly gate. No angel recounting your sins. No endless aimless wandering. No rotting flesh-hunger nor dramatic life flashing before one’s eyes. No placating children’s story nor old wive’s tale could ever have prepared Sakusa for this. Not one shitty horror nor introspective radio show, not one gothic novel nor fear-monger on the side of the street, not any one of them knew the truth.

For Death is _warm_. Not burning like the coals of hell but perfectly warm, like freshly ironed laundry and the sting of the perfect spike. It leaves him feeling full and empty all at once. Warms his cheeks the pinks of hydrangea petals freshly picked for the funeral service. There are no angels, no heaven, no djinn or youkai. All there is is arms warm and chiseled by the gods, surrounding Sakusa and pulling him deeper and deeper into the grasps of the afterlife. 

He does not fight it, welcomes every inch of skin and every rumbled syllable. He lets the world spin and spin around an axis only he cares to see, and the olives and deep browns of death envelope him like the depths of the mountains. He is the soil beneath the trees, long gone and breathing through the acres of the woods around him. He is the starlight, framing the only world he’ll ever know, and the only one he’d ever care to see through. He is Dead.

Sakusa Kiyoomi is Dead.

He has been dying for years. 

One for every win and every loss, one for every glance, one for every smile and word shared.

He is the end, the final laugh on his lips. The white and orange wrapped around his shoulders closes for curtain calls. His eyes flutter closed to let the credits roll.

His heart falls out of beat, out of sync, out of breath.

His cheeks bloody red.

His bones white as teeth, bloodshot eyes.

Oh Death, he knows you by your name, he whispers as such into it’s collective ear. Watches the stoicism of Her and Him and It and Them crack into a smile made of titanium and cadmium. The left one grips all that’s left of him, every speck and morsel from the dust of his lashes to the powder of his heels. 

With power It places, Each and every piece. 

Builds voice and agency.

Clicks jaws into place.

Weaves fingers between wrists between palms between hands.

Breathes blood into his roots and curls into his spine.

And oh, he is so beautiful. Lifeless Kiyoomi, strong in Death as in life and all sharp edges to gentle waves. Breaks and mortar pieced with rubber and silk. 

It slots his gem eyes into place, returns the “soul” into its podium, makes peace with the thought of a heartbeat.

It breathes into his lips, and watches with warm eyes as he gasps.

Sakusa clutches newly-formed fingers into Death’s skin, and learns it’s name differently.

He leans up

Up

Up—

Higher than every star—

“I love you, Wakatoshi.”

Death, as Sakusa finds out, is something you can experience and still tell the tale.


End file.
